


wasteland, baby

by evantheworm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Time Travel, drywaters a few hundred years in the future, its cogchamp but in the dsmp, no beta we die like wilbur after phil's rap battle roast, rated teen for swearing and mild depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29053932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evantheworm/pseuds/evantheworm
Summary: Fundy wakes up and he doesn't know where he is. He doesn't remember anything. The only thing around for miles is orange and red clay. He needs to survive the newfound wasteland, but some friends and a really cute vegetation hybrid might make it worth more than just survival.
Relationships: 5up & Tubbo & Awesamdude, Floris | Fundy & Ranboo, Floris | Fundy/5up
Comments: 15
Kudos: 168





	wasteland, baby

**Author's Note:**

> hey guyssss i am back feeding the tags of another rarepair. 5up and Fundy lately huh. my soul truly cant take them. this is my first chapter fic on this account so that's really exciting, i'm shooting for 5 chapters right now but it might end up being longer. anyways as always thank you sm for reading and i hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> Disclaimer: all of the shipping being done in this fic is with the explicit permission of the cc's. if any of them ever express discomfort or anything of the sort about these types of fics i will take this down.

It was hot, too hot. There were no clouds in the sky to block the crushing heat of the sun. There was no steady breeze to cool the temperatures hanging in the atmosphere.

_What the hell?_

Brown eyes flew open and met wide blue sky glaring back. Slowly, Fundy tried to move his fingers, putting their capability of movement to the test. Orange clay crumbled into pieces beneath the movement and stained his fingers in personified retaliation.

A small groan slipped from his lips as he willed movement into his body. Nothing made sense, he didn’t like that. What happened, what happened? He pulled at the threads of a frayed and foggy memory, desperately grasping for answers to questions he wasn’t really sure how to ask.

He hated the hazy confusion, the not knowing, the being left in the dark. He pushed down the queasy uncertainty rising up his throat. C’mon, he could do this, his emotions could wait. He needed to start putting the broken puzzle pieces together first.

Eventually, he managed to sit up to survey his surroundings and the damage that made him feel like he’d tangoed with death. Small cuts littered his body, an open gash on his arm that seemed to have stopped bleeding ages ago, and his hands seemed to carry the echoes of an electric current that froze his fingers at the joints. He gritted his teeth and flexed his fingers, more silent confusion mixing with the aching pain. Abandoning the observation of his injuries in favor of watching the sun glint off distant red and orange mountains made of tightly packed clay, Fundy sighed. Everything about this felt naggingly familiar, like an itch he needed to scratch but couldn’t get to no matter how hard he tried. 

_Do I know this place from somewhere?_

The sudden urge for self-protection hit him like a slap to the face. What was he doing laying out in the open, injured, like that? He needed to protect himself; from the smothering heat, from sudden danger. After all, it wasn’t safe, not here, not anywhere in this world, his instincts knew that by heart.

He pushed himself up, off the ground, ignoring the pain that shot through him, the weight of gravity pulling him back toward the ground and making his head spin. Gravity won the short-lived battle and sent his knees colliding into the solid dirt. He breathed a ragged breath out and steadied himself with his uninjured arm. Slowly, this time, he lifted himself up and closed his eyes, breathing in a calm, grounding deep breath. Maybe orange wasn’t his favorite color anymore, he thought, dully watching as small bits of clay fell from the black fabric covering his legs, at the knees. 

Another sigh escaped his lips as he watched the horizon. Distantly, he thought he spotted some trees, they were a better bet than nothing at all. He pushed down the pain until it was just a numbing sense in the back of his mind, occasionally traveling down his spine and making his knees buckle. 

The sun was a force, a constant presence, always burning, always watching. He kept going, though, it didn’t seem to be just a mirage, the trees looked real, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if they weren’t. After what seemed like an eternity, grass crushed underneath Fundy’s tattered boots. The soft sounds of the grass passing underfoot was a stark contrast to the harsh crunch of the clay. 

A tall tree blocked the spiraling heat of the sun and he finally collapsed onto the ground underneath it. His head hit the solid bark of the tree with a thump and he brushed his sweaty orange hair off his forehead. This place was way too hot for the thick hair covering his ears and tail, yet, the heat felt familiar. Oppressive, but comforting all the same. 

Fundy shook his head, he needed to focus, survival was the prime target. He didn’t know where he was, or why, but he did know he needed to live long enough to figure out the answers to his questions. He needed water, food, shelter, and—

A soft gasp and crunch of leaves made Fundy’s ears perk up and turn toward the sound from deeper in the forest of thick birch trees. His eyes scanned over the vegetation and stopped on a red boot peeking out from behind the trees. 

“Who the hell?” The words crawled up Fundy’s vocal chords making him cough and his voice raspy from unsuse. The urge for water suddenly became a lot stronger.   
The foot quickly pulled back behind the tree that hid who it belonged to, leaving the forest quiet, once again. The soft hum of the leaves in the occasional wind seemed to sense the stalemate between the strangers. And Fundy couldn’t help but feel a pull, deep seeded in his chest, a call to the invisible being that made him want to stow his survival instincts and peak behind the other’s hideout. But just as sudden as the feeling had come it was gone, leaving only the desperate air surrounding Fundy on the forest floor. 

He pushed himself up off the ground and walked over the tree. The only thing that even hinted someone had been there in the first place was a small golden metal cog lying in the dirt. He picked it up and rubbed it between his fingers, noting the scratches covering it, hinting that it had once been used as part of a gear. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, he decided to pocket the object. Maybe it would come in handy later. 

After Fundy’s hunt for food and water had gone, somewhat, successful, he headed out of the thick, dark woods where monsters lurked, waiting for the perfect time to strike, just when you lowered your guard. He retraced his steps back to the edge of the trees where soft grass met hard clay. He debated the area, tossing the options for a hideout from the unforgiving outside world around in his head, when a sound knocked him back into focus. That sound, it scared him, but it reminded him of something, someone? 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t scare you, you kinda scared me, though.” A sheepish voice followed a tall enderman hybrid out of the brush and all his senses that yelled to attack were stowed by a jolt to his memory, an electric current that ran through his body like deadly water. 

_I know you, I know you, I know you. Do I?_

“No, no, you didn’t scare me. You’re half enderman.” Fundy said it more of a statement than a question. 

“Uh yeah I am.” The boy rubbed an awkward hand against his neck. “You’re a fox hybrid.”

Fundy nodded. “I am.”

The two stood together, in the woods, both heads filled with confusion and the vague pulls of lands far far away. Wondering, even hoping, for answers, for anything. For more than just the whisper of a memory. 

“Do I know you? I have memory problems, or at least I think I do, everything’s so foggy…” The enderman boy trailed off, looking at the ground as if it provided the answers the concaves of his mind were reaching for. 

“No, but you do seem familiar.” Fundy knew exactly what the other meant by foggy, all his thoughts and memories before he woke up in hot orange clay existed behind veil. “I’m Fundy, by the way.”

“Ranboo.” He stuck out his hand toward Fundy.

The name struck something floating in the milky white nothingness. Fundy shook Ranboo’s outstretched hand. 

“Where are you from?” Fundy led the way out of the forest, having decided that the orange mesa would make better land for a base than spending time clearing land and unnecessarily chopping down trees.

“Um, I’m not really sure. I kind of just woke up here, I don’t really remember anything else.” 

Fundy stopped and turned toward Ranboo, eyes widened and brain gears already turning. “You too? Man, this is fucking weird.”

“Yeah, it really is.” 

“You know what’s even weirder.” Fundy reached a clawed hand into his pocket and pulled out the golden gear he had found earlier, nestled into the forest floor. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” He left out the part about him not really knowing if he had because his memory was just about as useless as an umbrella with a hole in it.

Ranboo’s eyes widened a little. “Woah, that’s really cool. I wonder if there are other things like it here.” 

Fundy nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, too.” Suddenly, an idea struck him, a smirk slid onto his face, exposing the sharp canines that normally hid behind his lip. “What if we try to build something insanely cool. We find out all the secrets this place is hiding, and we use them.”

Ranboo looked at him, making eye contact for the first time since their meeting, and smiled. “Let’s make something cool.”


End file.
